


Six and Counting

by drainspoon



Series: Newt's Life Work aka his Angst Collection [5]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, grian is incredibly unlucky in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25439014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drainspoon/pseuds/drainspoon
Summary: "If you had never killed Scar, would they still be here?"
Relationships: Charles | Grian/Evil Xisuma, Charles | Grian/GoodTimesWithScar, Charles | Grian/Mumbo Jumbo, Charles | Grian/Rendog, Charles | Grian/Steffen Mossner | Docm77
Series: Newt's Life Work aka his Angst Collection [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924231
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	Six and Counting

**Author's Note:**

> after several days and nights of work, it's finally done. have fun suffering. this is what happens when you try to dethrone a god.

his hands tremble in his grip, growing colder as each second slipped away, the frozen night zapping away the heat from his crumpled form. red spills from his chest, the warmth of the crimson comparable only to water from a warm bath, despite carrying none of the comfort. he fought bad a sick feeling of dread, bile bubbling up in his throat as he desperately clung to the limpening palm of his lover. "n-no, please, scar, no, you—you can't l-leave me l-li-like th-is, you can't, it's no-not fa-a-air, pl- _please_ ," his weak whispers devolved into incoherent sobs. "d-don-t g-go."

scar's eyes just barely stayed open, hand twitching as he struggled to lift it up, to try to comfort his one love in his fleeting moments. salty tears slid down the curves of his love's cheeks as he weakly cracked a smile for him. his mind was a jumble and he didn't know what was going on, all he knew was that the love of his life sat hunched above him, weeping, and he wanted to fix it. voice quivering, he tried his hardest to force himself to stay steady despite the jolts of red filling his vision, "g-guess it's go-gonna be d-dead si-l-lence f-for me th-en, huh?" he tried to follow up his joke with a small bit of laughter, but instead released a hacking cough.

their eyes meet, and scar summons the strength to lift a hand up to grian's cheek, clutching it lightly. "i-i'm so sorry."

"it's okay." he ran a thumb lovingly over the tear stained skin, and then he was gone. the death message popped up at soon as the body dissolved, leaving nothing but a bloodied patch of grass being pelted by falling rain.

<GoodTimesWithScar was slain by Grian.>

* * *

swinging his legs over the side of the snail's head, grian watched as his boyfriend shouted for him, fighting back giggles at his confused face as the sun bore down on both of them. 

"grian? griiiiiiiaaaaan?! where did you go?" he called before dropping his voice to a mumble, stopping just below the snail head. "did he seriously leave me here?" he bent over the edge, clutching tightly onto the light crevices in the material as he struggled to get a sight of scar beneath him. his hands slipped loose, and he began plummeting to the ground, landing in the grass with a groan. "there you are!" scar laughed, running over. he held out both his hands, and grian took them, being yanked up and into his lover's welcoming arms. "i was looking for you."

"and i was hiding," he retorted, managing to keep the pain of his fall from his voice and replacing it instead with the giggly love and adoration he felt in his arms. despite the fake anger in his stance, both boys fell into laughter, entangled in each other's arms. "i love you, scar."

"scar?" the vision broke, shattering into millions of tiny pieces as grian remembered the events of a few months ago. the arms around him suddenly felt colder, less welcoming than that of his boyfriend's. this was not his boyfriend, at least not the one from before—

this was mumbo. 

"grian..." the hurt in the redstoner's voice was genuine and he felt a pang of heavy guilt alight in his stomach, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "no, no, honey, i get it..." combing fingers through his hair and hugging him tighter. "it's okay. you two were very close. i get it, i get it..." it was not okay. he had just mistaken mumbo jumbo—his _fiancé_ —for scar. he could've sworn he had gotten over him. he'd been the one to confess, he'd been the one to propose for god's sake. tightening his hands into balls of mumbo's suit, grian sobbed into his arms.

several moments passed of pure silence, disturbed only by grian's racking cries.

"i'm... i'll let you be alone," mumbo whispered, breaking away from him and trudging inside his own base, leaving grian to whimper on his own. every passing day the redstoner felt worry that he was just a rebound grow under his skin, when grian touched his arm and pulled him into bed, when they laughed together in the sunlight—moments to everyone that strengthen theirs—that only furthered to destroy his.

he pulled his hands into fists, throwing a weak punch to the side of his in-between-bases-base. _i hate this._ he hit the wood again. _why can't i just trust that he loves me?!_ again. _we're going to get married, for god's sake, and i'm still thinking about what if he doesn't love me?_ again. _i'm such a selfish person.._ with a pop, the block fell onto the ground, pulling into his inventory like a black hole. mumbo bit his lip, placing the log back in its place. _stop being like this. stop it._ dragging out a long, goddamned sigh he slumped on the ground.

_he called me scar._

_he really did._

mumbo palmed the side of his head, sudden guilt overwhelming him as he heard the faint whimpers of grian above ground. "i can't believe i left him up there..." he turned to the ladder, hands wrapping around the rungs as he hoisted himself to the top. he pressed one of his hands to the trapdoor, shifting it just slightly above the dirt and grass. he adjusted himself, placing his other hand on the door while using the blocks behind him to keep himself stable in preparation to climb out. but then he heard a whisper.

despite every cell in his body screaming at him to make himself known so he wouldn't have to hear whatever was obviously not meant for him to hear, he froze in space, dropping one hand to a rung and holding it so tightly that his hand burned. his eyes were wide, and he held his breath, making as little noise as possible. "i should've died that night too..." what? "i should've logged off, i should've left and never came back." mumbo's muscles tightened. he knew what was coming next, he didn't want to hear it, but some damned force in his body refused to let him block it out and he was jolted into tears at his next statement. "then i could be with scar, and _**not mumbo.**_ " 

he slapped a hand over his mouth, placing his other hand on the edge of the ladder as the trapdoor snapped shut. he stepped off the footing, sliding himself all the way to the bottom as he bolted back to his bed. even though he was completely enclosed in his base, he couldn't bring himself to run outside, to face what he'd heard—to face grian. 

the love of his life.

a love who didn't love him back.

"mumbo?" dear god. "mumbo, are you okay? you didn't hear anything... did you?" he could hear grian's steps as he climbed off the letter, the clicking of his soles on his floor as he checked around.

fumbling with his communicator, he pulled up the menu, hyperventilating as his hands slipped. "i'm, i'm not feeling well. i didn't hear anything, no. i, i think i need a nap," he lied, eyes trained on the buttons as he read through them. he'd never opened the menu before—he'd never needed to. he'd never even felt... the urge. "please, leave. i don't want you to get sick." he lied, and he kept on lying. god, how he loved grian. he loved him so much, too much. his breath hitched in his throat, finger hovering over the button to log off. his ears filled with ringing, and he faintly heard someone turning a corner and a scream. he slammed the tip of his finger on the screen, and that was it.

<Mumbo Jumbo has logged off.>

* * *

rain poured on his back, soaking his black suit that reminded him all too much of mumbo. it hurt. it hurt to know that two of his lovers had died. it hurt to feel the piercing glares of some of the more emotional hermits. their judging stares bore into his brain as if there wasn't already a hole in his heart, leaking and oozing sadness and self hatred. and yet he felt as though he deserved it. like it was _wrong_ for him to be here, mourning his ex-fiancé, as if, even though no one had confirmed that they had, his very words hadn't been the catalyst for mumbo's death. the feeling had appeared at scar's funeral as well, but it had faded over the coming weeks, and then everyone knew what had happened. mumbo had seen it.

this time, everyone knew what happened. but this time, it was his fault.

"are you okay?" a strong, deep voice cut him from his gloom, causing his head to jerk up and to the side, relaxing some as he was greeted with the red haired admin he knew so well: ex. he was somewhat in the same boat. a few mistakes and now most everyone hated him. but at least he didn't kill anyone, his brain screamed back. seeing the disgruntled look on his face, ex sighed. "i'll take that as a no. is there anything i can do for you? you and mumbo were soon to be wedded, were you not?"

he pursed his lips. "we were. and," he released a dry laugh. "if you can make everyone stop hating me, i'd appreciate it." it came out as a joke, but deep down inside he honestly hoped that the admin could...

but the sad smile on ex's face gave him answers without words. "if i could, believe me, i would not be the only one making conversation with you right now." he clasped a hand on his shoulder. "i'm sorry."

"don't be. it's not your fault." _it's mine._

they stood in silence for however long it took for the rest of the hermits to abandon their solemn posts, several shooting vicious, venom slick glares at the duo's back, and yet they stood stoic before the grave of the second of many to meet their demise. they stood in the pouring rain, ex's hand on grian's shoulder, an unspoken bond forming between the two. after all, if you separate a pair from the pack, they're bound to become attached, no? clearly, that's the truth, because fifteen days later, ex asked grian out to lunch, forty-two days later, grian asked to officially become an item, and seventy-eight days later, the incident happened.

everything was torn away from him yet again.

"we should go flying," grian proclaimed, hoisting his elytra up and over his shoulders. 

ex sat up slowly from his spot on the bed, rubbing one of his eyes with his palm as he picked up his helmet, "why? there something you gotta do, gri?" he tugged on a shirt over his helm, stretching and popping some joints groggily as grian joyfully swayed on his feet, eagerly waiting.

"nope! i just wanna hang out with you!" he grinned. ex shot him a smirk, pulling on an elytra of his own and ruffling grian's hair as he passed him a stack of rockets.

"let's go." the admin took the builder's hand, forcing him into an unexpected makeshift dance out the "door" that ended in a bubbly fit of laughter, ex spinning grian around until he released his hands, causing him to drop to the ground with an oomph. immediately he took off into the sky, shooting a glance behind him at his boyfriend, fumbling with his rockets to follow behind. "catch me if you can!" he laughed out, twirling in the air tauntingly. grian spammed his rockets, ramming into ex and nearly throwing the both of them out of the air, the only reason they stayed floating being a burst of (rather cheat-y) admin magic.

ex twisted on his back, grian sliding easily into his arms. the in-air hug should not have been possible, but once again thanks to admin abilities, they managed. one of the many perks of a magic boyfriend.

a sharp crack filled the air and they lurched in place, immediately followed by a loud, droning tear. 

the admin's eyes went wide behind his visor, instinct overcoming him. _i can't let grian fall too._ he shoved grian back into the air as he began plummeting to the ground, a loud whistling filling his ears, as he felt as though his heart had dropped into his stomach. bile rumbled up into his throat as he struggled to activate any magic that might save him. to his dismay, the majority of his cheat-y ways had been used up in the sky. his elytra flapped weakly beneath him as he drew closer and closer to the ground, watching helplessly as grian shot towards him desperately, tears flying through the air. he could feel death lurking behind him, and with the last moments that remained, he smiled.

<Evil Xisuma fell from a high place.>

* * *

doc had appeared in grian's room late in the night, tears streaming down the usually-stoic creeper's face. he'd collapsed into his arms and begged him to tell him how he dealt with losing so much—because he'd lost bdubs just the other night: shot by a skeleton while on half a heart from a creeper explosion. grian had been rightfully shocked, but he'd held doc in his arms as he weeped and sobbed and begged. " _don't tell anyone. how did you do it? please, please. how can i be like you? grian, please. help me._ " he'd rocked on his bed, hands clutched around grian's sweater and face buried into the crook of his neck, soaking the fabric with salty tears. " _i don't want to feel this way. please, how do i get over him?_ "

he'd barely been able to mumble out his words of advice, albeit an awful sentiment, " _find a new love._ "

and then doc had kissed him. and he'd melted into the kiss—doc was a good kisser, it was common knowledge throughout hermitcraft. even though he felt, no, he _knew_ it was wrong to do this, to take advantage of a man in his struggles, to let doc betray a dead man, but he was sad too, and this was a way to get rid of the pain. and so they'd spent the night together. and that's all their relationship ever was. even when feelings began to form, when they started hanging out even in their happiest days, when they could feel fireworks alight in their heart upon seeing one another, they pushed them deep down and away. because betrayal was best done when the lights were off, and doc and grian were traitors to their loves. they were a comfort in the night, and that's all they would ever be.

it was an awful feeling. to only be able to love someone behind closed doors. to know that their love was nothing more than for your body. but grian couldn't help his love for doc. he couldn't help that he wanted to grab for his hand in public, and kiss his cheek, and call him more than just a friend with benefits. he wanted the world to know his love for him, but the world couldn't know, and the world wouldn't know.

so he decided on a new approach.

if he couldn't get his attention the normal way, he would do so in a way he couldn't ignore.

the night had passed, and doc was fast asleep, but his nighttime lover slid out of bed, climbing over to the creeper's side. pulling a screwdriver from the bedside table, he began to fumble with controls and screws, his aim to mess with it just enough that it'll be noticeable. of course, grian's only knowledge of the arm was when it pinned him to the bedsheets, so he didn't know that pressing a certain button would explode the arm. doc had once asked him if he'd wanted to learn about his bionic arm, given the amount of interest he had towards it. grian had declined, claiming it would be boring. really, he'd just been searching for an excuse to get away from him, because they'd been getting too close for friends with benefits. y'know...

maybe he should've accepted the offer.

<Docm77 blew up.>

* * *

grian was terrified of love.

for him, love was an endless cycle of attachment followed by immediate pain. the world didn't want him to love, but it insisted on making him suffer every time, even when he tried his hardest to bend to their whims. he tried to push down the love he had for doc, and what did that get him? a bloody corpse and a permanent ring in his ears. he tried, he _tried_ to do what he had to, to hide himself from the hermits, to protect himself from the useless love that would just end up with him hurt and whoever he loved dead. he'd had enough proof that whatever fucking god there was in this world hated his guts to know that he had to lock himself away—to protect everyone. 

because as hard as he tried to suppress it, he loved them too.

three curt knocks and a "hello?" broke the ambience of his self hatred. grian froze up, sliding into a small space between the pillars of his base. he held his breath despite the urge to start hyperventilating lingering in his chest, digging his teeth into the inside of his cheek. _no, no, no. who's here? who would visit me after all i've done?_ he couldn't think of a single person, and it had been so long since he'd heard another hermit's voice that his mind was fuzzy, and he couldn't place who had called for him. "grian? dude? you there?"

a familiar face stepped into the room, and grian realized that he was not as hidden as he'd thought, because the sunglasses donned man approached him as if he hadn't been trying to hide at all. _ren. of course it's ren. how could i forget him? i'm a failure of a hermit, a failure of a friend. i forgot ren._ he slipped into his thoughts, oblivious to the worried sounds of his frien—he's not your friend. you don't forget friends.—fellow hermit. he tuned back in when ren started shaking him by his shoulders. he'd slumped down, with his knees up to his chest, and ren had crouched in front of him with a worried, no, terrified look on his face. "dude..."

_look, you're making them worried and you killed their friends. you're terrible._

"grian, please. we need you back. i need you back. we've lost so many hermits already—i don't think we can stand losing another one." ren took his hands in his own, bringing them up to his face to touch his cheeks. "please, please, we need you to come back." they fell into silence, the rumbling of a storm he'd never heard start blitzing through the air above the mansion.

grian spoke before he even thought. his voice was weak, he hadn't spoken in months, and it quivered uncooperatively despite the strength he struggled to place behind his words. "you don't need me," he ripped his hands from ren's, the taller man reaching out some in loss. "you don't need this. you all can get on fine without a m-murderer," his voice trembled at the word. the word that haunted his worst nightmares and taunted him even in his best dreams. the word that lingered in his thoughts since the very first grave was set. "don't lie to me."

that seemed to tick him off. "i'm not lying."

"yes, you are."

"no, i'm not, grian."

"stop it."

"no!"

"stop!" they'd stood up at that point, devolving into a small shouting match. he shoved ren back, and the man flashed red, coughing a little as he slammed against one of the pillars. grian's eyes widened and tears pricked at their corners. anger bubbled up, at himself, projected onto ren. he began to push at him, despite his protests, forcing him away and towards the door. 

"grian—" grian kept pushing, eyes pinned shut because he knew how wrong it was to refuse to let someone who genuinely cared about him stay, because he hated himself and all he was so so much and to see himself do these things would make him feel even worse. "please! i care about you! please!" he grit his teeth, opening his eyes for just a moment as he did one final push and shoved him out the opening that worked as somewhat of a door. "grian, wait—" a loud crack filled the air, and ren let out a howling scream. his eyes snapped open just in time to see ren falling back, a piece of fire where he once stood.

<Renthedog was struck by lightning whilst fighting Grian.>

* * *

a thump sounded behind grian. he spun around, stumbling back at the infuriated face of his former fellow architect, tears sliding down their cheeks as their hand whitened around the handle of a netherite blade. "i-iskall?" he weakly called, trembling both physically and vocally. he let out a short scream as iskall dashed towards him, tackling him to the ground as they began to shout incoherent insults. "iskall?! dude?!?"

iskall pressed the side of the blade to grian's throat, their other hand on his chest, as they glared at him with unimaginable hatred. he'd imagined scenarios like this plenty of times in the past weeks, but the actual experience was... disheartening. it hurt. not just from his skin splitting at the netherite. it was... painful to imagine hatred, but it was bloodcurdling to actually see it on their face. the tears in their eyes, the way they tried to force it back—because they didn't want him to see them cry. it made him feel sick. he mustered up the courage to speak out, "i-iskall, please, what's going on? why are you doing, t-this?!?" their words hit him as though he were stabbed through the heart.

" ** _you killed ren._** "

he quivered under them. "w-what?"

they grit their teeth, practically snarling at him. "ren wouldn't have died if he hadn't gone out to try and comfort you! and, and he wouldn't have been out in the storm if you hadn't been so stupid to hide—gah, this is all your _fault_!" frustration seeped from their speech and grian felt his hope drain. _so... everyone really does hate me..._ he stopped fighting back as iskall dealt damage to him over and over and over. 

he'd began spitting up blood by the time iskall finally stopped, halting both their beating and their yelling as a small "ding" sound came from their communicator. they lifted it up and typed up a response that grian could just barely see through both his fuzzy vision and the tilt of the device.

<xisumavoid> iskall?  
<xisumavoid> are you coming?  
<iskall85> yes  
<iskall85> i got distracted

they grabbed his wrist, pulling him onto his feet despite his hoarse protests and stumbling. eventually they heaved a sigh and just snatched him into their arms, taking off with their elytra towards the shopping district. his brain was scattered, and he could hardly process what was going on even when he began to hear the jeers of his friends towards his arrival, cheers of excitement mixed in within the thick, suffocating hatred. he was dropped onto a rocky spot, vision whirling as he cracked his eyes open, feeling warm blood dripping past his lips. 

"was... was goin' o-on?" he choked out, hardly able to hear his own voice over the crowd.

he could feel the overwhelming presence of the admin approaching, and struggled to sit up to face him. as time passed his vision had somewhat cleared and he stared up at him, at the glint of his netherite sword, at the sudden change in opacity of his visor—and he put two and two together. tonight was the night he would die. "c-" his emotions betrayed his mind, and he spoke out as the hermits fell into a hush. "can i ask... why?" xisuma let out a shaky exhale, crouching in front of him. he tucked his hand under the builder's chin and tilted his head up to look him in the eyes, simultaneously pressing a button to shift his visor out of the way. with hate filled eyes he spoke out:

"if you had never killed scar, would they still be here?"

<Grian was slain by Xisumavoid.>


End file.
